


sleepless nights

by feychella



Series: soft maplekeene [2]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Everyone Thinks They're Together, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Maplekeene - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:41:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24756466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feychella/pseuds/feychella
Summary: Argo can’t sleep. Fitzroy has a solution.
Relationships: Argo Keene & Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt, Argo Keene/Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt
Series: soft maplekeene [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1959193
Comments: 11
Kudos: 89





	sleepless nights

**Author's Note:**

> Late nights with the boys! Thank you for reading. :)

He couldn’t sleep. After alternating between extremely hot, and practically frozen, Argo throws his sheets off the bed and sits up, head in his hands. He needed to sleep if tomorrow’s mission was going to be successful. Peeking through the slats of the bottom bunk up to the top bunk, he notices a faint light coming from Snipper’s shell and the crinkling of plastic. Fitzroy, hair messed up from sleep, is sitting with his hands stretched out, working on squeezing henna out of a cone that he’d bought from a shop in Last Hope a few days ago. _So that’s why he tore away from the group._ Fitz straightens his back and groans.

Argo slips out of bed, careful not to disturb the Firbolg, and starts making his way up the ladder to Fitz’s bunk. Sitting on the edge of the top bunk, he let his legs dangle off the edge. The window, running from the floor to the ceiling, is lit up with the night sky and stars. He contemplates them for a moment, looking for any constellations he could recognize. No. This night sky was not his own. Fitzroy finally looks up. “Argo! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispers, eyes crinkled with worry.

“You didn’t, I couldn’t sleep.” 

“Ah...well, I wouldn’t suppose you know how to open a mehndi cone, would you?”

“I don’t, but I can try.” Argo takes the little package from Fitzroy. “What is it with you and henna, anyway?”

“My mother used to do it for me when I came back from Clyde Nite’s. It was our way of bonding, I guess. I kind of picked up on some basic patterns and...it just reminds me of home.” Argo tosses the opened packet back to Fitz, whose face lights up. “Thank you!”

“That’s a nice story. I wish I had something like that to remember my mom by.”

“I mean, there must be _something_ you do to bond with people. Besides...taking blame, that is.”

“Not really, no.” Argo hugs his knees to his chest and stares out the window again. He hadn’t really had time to bond with people, especially not his crewmates. On the sea, it was everyone for themselves. No friends, only enemies and allies. It was a lonely life. His mother's voice and face were there, burned into his memory, but they hadn't had enough _time. Isn't that the way it always is with people we love? We never have enough time._

He watches Fitzroy start patterning flowers and little circles onto his arm. This was the most relaxed he’d ever seen Fitz. His curls were still a little messy, eyes tired but focused. Argo inches closer to see the designs on his arm and hands. His chest is almost completely exposed, white pajama top loosely unbuttoned and shining over his dark skin. _He always runs hot at night._ When Fitzroy looks up, he starts, as if he’s been caught looking at something he wasn’t allowed to. The half-elf lets out a sleepy laugh at his reaction and grabs Argo’s hand.

“Maybe this can be _our_ thing. Our bonding thing, I mean, if that’s okay with you.” Fitzroy’s eyes, golden-brown in the dark, froze Argo in place. He’d say yes to anything if he would be able to stare into Fitz's eyes for the rest of his life. _This isn't that dramatic. He just wants to bond with you._ Argo convinces himself this means nothing. This is what roommates do.

“I think I’d like that.”

The effect was immediate. Fitzroy sits up straighter, poring over Argo’s blue arm. The light brown henna quickly covers his arm and fingers, the cold sensation spreading over his skin. Argo watches Fitz’s dark lashes flutter in the starlight as the boy leans over his hand, resting on Fitzroy’s knee. His brows are furrowed in concentration but he yawns, covering his mouth a little. _Endearing._ Argo shakes his head, trying to get rid of the fogginess that’s set over his mind.

“Why can’t you sleep?”

“I’m not really used to sleeping on normal land, I s’pose.” That was half-true. He liked sleeping among the rocking of the waves, bed tilting from side-to-side in the cradle of the ocean. He always used to sit up, when he was younger, and beg the captain of the Mariah to tell him stories about his mom until he fell asleep. The captain, bless him, would sit there for long after Argo was asleep.

“I get that. It took me a while to adjust too,” Fitzroy gives him another tired smile and finishes up his design. “Done! Just let it dry and then you can scrub it off. I don’t suppose you have a lemon on you…”

Argo winks and pulls one out of his pocket, much to Fitzroy’s delight. He squeezes it on the henna, careful not to spill any on Snippers, and beams again. “I’m not asking where you got that from,” Fitz teases. Argo studies his hands. Fitzroy was actually kind of _good_ at art. Flowers and curled compasses are woven together by vines and little circles. Berries, he guessed. He feels Fitz’s eyes on him as he climbs down from the top bunk.

“Go, now, while the big guy’s still snoring!” Fitz’s face is more awake now, and Argo slips down the hall towards the bathroom, little iridescent butterflies following him. Buckminster steps out of a shower stall, towel around his waist, and sleepily runs a hand through his hair. He starts when he sees Argo at the sink, gently washing his hands.

“Oh hey, Argo. Everything okay?” His eyes flit down to the sink where crusted henna is flowing down the drain. A smooth pattern of dark brown appears on Argo’s skin after a bit of scrubbing. “That’s supposed to happen?”

“Uh, yeah, Buckminster, why are you up so late?”

“Movie night with Leon. It got... a little bit out of hand. Specifically, popcorn all over the floor and chocolate sauce in my hair.” 

"Most chaotic dormmates, for sure.” Argo grins at him. Those two were always getting into trouble. You'd think they were brothers, the way they acted.

“Just between us, I think you and Fitz are the most chaotic _couple_ on the floor. Y'all are a good match. Anyways, I really have to get back to Leon. Lord knows he’s still trying to figure out how the vacuum cleaner works.” Buckminster ambles down the hall, shooting Argo a playful look over his shoulder. Laughing to himself, Argo walks towards the dorm, fingers closing around the handle before Buck’s words register in his head.

 _Me and Fitz? Chaotic couple?_ Does everyone think that they're a couple? The flowers on his hands glow in the fluorescent light and he enters the room. He starts up the ladder before seeing the prone figure of Fitzroy, curled up with his head between two pillows, on top of his sheets. _I wasn’t gone that long._ The henna is still lying beside him on the bed. Snippers raises his head a little when Argo surges up, grabbing the henna and carrying it down to Fitz’s desk. He tosses an extra blanket over Fitzroy before patting Snippers and descending the ladder. Fitzroy murmurs to himself and turns over peacefully. Sneaking one last glance at Fitzroy’s form, he smiles to himself, suddenly feeling very tired. 

He glances out the window again. The stars wink at him and deep gray twilight surrounds him like a protective cocoon. This night sky was his too, after all. He watches the stars until he falls asleep, surrounded by jasmine and safety.


End file.
